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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25491334">Wait, Wait</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/explicitones/pseuds/explicitones'>explicitones</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Patience is the art of hoping [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Boys Being Boys, Canon Compliant, Eventual Happy Ending, Filling In the Gaps, Firsts, Friends to Lovers, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Kageyama Tobio is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Minor Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Romance, hinata wears his heart on his sleeve, suga is a troll, time skip</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:14:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25491334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/explicitones/pseuds/explicitones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>After, meandering side-by-side in the general direction of their respective homes, Hinata declares with certainty in his voice, “We’ll always be a team.” Kageyama has never been good with absolutes, deciphering between literal and metaphor, but there’s something to the conviction in Hinata’s tone that makes him believe.</i>
</p><p>In which Kageyama has a system for categorizing life events but takes a long time sorting out his feelings.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Patience is the art of hoping [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975891</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>202</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Thanks for the memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hellooo! I wanted to try my hand at a canon, companion piece exploring the kagehina relationship through the time skip up to present day. This chapter can probably be read as a standalone (though won't be very satisfying :P); overall I think this will end up being 2-3 parts.</p><p>Fair warning, this contains spoilers for the manga (up to 402), please read at your own discretion!</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>( loss )</b>
</p><p>Things are quiet after their loss to Kamomedai. Kageyama barely remembers the drive back home; it’s a scatter of sniffles that echo up and down the bus, Hinata pressed warm beside him, emitting heat like a furnace—still coming down from his fever. Kageyama had given him the window seat despite knowing the boy would be dozing the entirety of the trip.</p><p>Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei order the team to take a week off from volleyball practice. The third-years are busy finalizing their post-graduation plans, and without them, things feel a little disoriented anyway. The second years take that time to begin planning for April. There are still two more months left in the school year.</p><p>He finds Hinata on a Tuesday, perched familiarly on the steps to the gym. They don’t have the keys and they’re not supposed to be here anyway. This is supposed to be a time for rest and relaxation, reflection—at least that’s what he’d grasped from Takeda’s post-game speech, anyway.</p><p>Hinata voices what’s been on Kageyama’s mind, what must’ve crossed everyone’s minds at some point. “We had a real shot at the semifinals.”</p><p>After their loss to Kamomedai, they find out Itachiyama was also eliminated during the quarterfinals, a shocking upset for the likely contender to win it all.</p><p>Kageyama shrugs, taking a seat beside Hinata. Their elbows brush. “Yes,” he says, because it’s true, and he’s never been good at consolation or encouragement. “Do you blame yourself?” he asks, and Hinata is quick to snap, “Do <em> you </em> blame me?”</p><p>He answers without thinking about it, because the answer is clear to him, “No. Getting sick is like getting injured, it happens. You weren’t the only one playing in that game.”</p><p>Hinata, who had never played an official game until his third year of middle school, who was a newcomer to the sport in all rights—who’d blazed through day one and day two running on pure adrenaline—simply had not experienced the grueling process that was Nationals. Having to play to full sets with Nekoma on day three, and then immediately following up that afternoon with Kamomedai, it was an amazing feat already, Kageyama thinks.</p><p>“I could’ve taken better care of myself,” Hinata offers, baiting.</p><p>“So you’ll do that next time.”</p><p>Hinata peers at him through his hair with an unreadable expression. And Kageyama takes it upon himself to remind him, “We placed eighth.”</p><p>This loss feels less like their loss to Aoba Johsai at the prefectural qualifiers for Interhigh, less devastating. It’s not easier, by any means, just familiar. Strange, when there was more at stake, it’s oddly satisfying, knowing they’ll get stronger from here on out—he and Hinata will make sure of that.</p><p>“Are you trying to make me feel better?” Hinata asks, eyeing him suspiciously still.</p><p>“Do you feel better?” Kageyama replies, doing his best to suppress a smirk.</p><p>Hinata rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling again and that makes something inside Kageyama stir, heart beat a little faster. “Thanks,” Hinata says after a beat, elbowing Kageyama in the ribs.</p><p>“Y-yeah,” he gets out, glancing away.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>( first )</b>
</p><p>February comes and goes. At the end of March, the third-years graduate. The volleyball team attends the graduation ceremony and throws a small farewell party in the gym afterwards. Kageyama feels heat prickling the corners of his eyes, this is nothing like when the third years graduated from Kitagawa First. He tells himself, <em> this isn’t about you-this isn’t about you-this isn’t about you</em>, an internal mantra that eases the tightness in his chest, if only momentarily.</p><p>Sugawara peers at him curiously from across the table spread, suspiciously teary-eyed himself and says, “Kageyama-kun, we’ll stay in touch.”</p><p>“Of course,” Daichi follows up, “We’re counting on you guys to keep Karasuno in the running. You can bet we’ll watch you play Nationals again.”</p><p>They’ll be busy, Kageyama thinks, with their own lives. Asahi is moving to Tokyo to attend fashion school, Sugawara is heading to university and Daichi’s about to enter the police academy—volleyball with Karasuno seems like a distant memory by comparison.</p><p>“Alright,” he makes himself say.</p><p>After, meandering side-by-side in the general direction of their respective homes, Hinata declares with certainty in his voice, “We’ll always be a team.” Kageyama has never been good with absolutes, deciphering between literal and metaphor, but there’s something to the conviction in Hinata’s tone that makes him believe.</p><p>The sound of Hinata’s bike clattering along the uneven road as he walks it is a comforting companion to their endless stroll. They’ll have to part ways soon—Hinata has a hill to bike up, approximately twenty-five minutes of grind. They’re both stalling.</p><p>At some point, Hinata breaks pace, dropping the kickstand to his bike.</p><p>“What?” Kageyama asks from behind him, blinking owlishly. The days are longer now, but they’re catching the sunset at its brightest, low in the sky, just before it disappears beyond the horizon. Hinata takes a seat on the curb, drawing his knees to his chest and sighs. “Don’t want to go home yet,” he mumbles into folded arms. Kageyama kind of understands.</p><p>There’s no invitation, but he feels compelled to take a seat beside Hinata. “We’re going to be second-years,” Kageyama states. He catches Hinata watching him, is close enough to see the sunlight reflected in his eyes, tracing shadows along the outlines of his lashes. Kageyama is still taller, sitting beside Hinata, but the difference is smaller, in favor of Hinata who leans in then, without notice, and presses soft, warm lips to his.</p><p><em> Huh </em> Kageyama thinks, too dumbfounded to move. Hinata pulls back first, a quick jerk of his head, and he’s wearing a horrified look on his face. “Uh,” he says, “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking...”</p><p>Kageyama frowns, feeling suddenly put-out. “Why are you apologizing?” he asks.</p><p>Hinata stops in his tracks, frowning back at him with his head tilted in confusion. “What?”</p><p>“What.” Kageyama replies, shrugging.</p><p>Narrowing his eyes, Hinata inquires, “Did you like that?”</p><p>“I…” Kageyama says, finding his words, “didn’t dislike it.”</p><p>It’s enough apparently, for Hinata to lean back in, clumsy and eager, their teeth knocking briefly in his excitement. It’s Kageyama’s first kiss, but it’s mostly overshadowed by recent events, the third-years graduating and an overwhelming sense of loneliness. Hinata must feel the same, for him to venture this; it takes all Kageyama has not to sigh in relief. Knowing nothing but the gradual decline of the tightness in his chest, he lets Hinata take the lead.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>( different )</b>
</p><p>The gym is quiet without the former third years. No, maybe quiet isn’t the word. Between Tanaka, Nishinoya and Hinata, there is still plenty of ruckus. Even Yachi, with her nervous mannerisms and spontaneous freakouts, has something to contribute to the atmosphere. It’s just—different.</p><p>They spend the better half of April practicing and recruiting, recruiting and practicing. Ennoshita takes over as captain. Yamaguchi tries his hand at receives alongside Hinata, and at some point they make the call to slot him in as a regular. It’s a transitional period. The new team members are green like Hinata was, but not as fast—no tricks up their sleeves. Kageyama thinks they may not make it to Nationals this year.</p><p>Between practice and class, Hinata kisses him.</p><p>It’s like discovering a new favorite song on the radio, press play, repeat.</p><p>Hinata kisses him in the club room after the others have left; in the second floor restroom, third stall from the left, beside the vending machines where Kageyama often vacillates between milk or yogurt, during training camp with Nekoma one weekend, outside Sakanoshita Market (in the dark), and on their way home before the road forks. He is always gentle, touching a hand to Kageyama’s wrist in askance—before pulling him in by the shirt, maneuvering Kageyama’s height with an almost willful expertise.</p><p>Hinata learns with a clever caress of his tongue how Kageyama likes to be kissed. On lazy days, sprawled across the grass, he licks in slow, teasing a line behind his teeth where the gums meet, and nipping playfully at Kageyama’s lower lip. He likes to touch Kageyama when they kiss, a hand on the cheek, or fingers scritching at the base of his scalp, where his hair curls; holding one of Kageyama’s hands and murmuring nonsense until he is soft and pliant.</p><p>It’s enough to make Kageyama forget, dull the frustration for them both when another first year quits after a particularly grueling training, or they lose another practice match to Nekoma.</p><p>Hinata kisses him after they lose to Dateko in the preliminary matches for Interhigh, all pent up frustration and biting heat, a little rough, gripping his wrists between them and refusing to let go.</p><p>—And after another graduation ceremony, where it feels like the present is getting ahead of them again and all they have is each other.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>( city )</b>
</p><p>Coach Nekomata invites Kurasano to another week-long training camp during the summer. It’s practically tradition now, since attending their first one, three years ago.</p><p>There are more new faces than familiar ones; they don’t complete as many penalties. Yamaguchi practices serves with the first years, and Tsukishima—who is decidedly less of a jerk these days—teaches the new Fukurodani middle blockers read-blocking techniques. Between sets one day, Kageyama receives a phone call from the Adlers’ coach, an offer to play as a team regular, there's a setter position opening up soon. He accepts without a second thought.</p><p>This is the first summer he actually sees the Tokyo Skytree. They travel there in the evening, when the tower is illuminated in blue and purple LEDs, a bright, imposing fixture amidst a great metropolis—at least that’s what the marketing brochure reads.</p><p>On the observation deck, he watches Hinata flit from window to window, captivated by the endless city lights below. Kageyama is more intrigued by the way they reflect in his eyes.</p><p>“Hinata-kun is interesting, isn’t he?” Yachi asks him, something akin to admiration in her tone.</p><p>“Ah,” Kageyama replies, “how do you mean?”</p><p>“He’s excitable,” she explains, “always optimistic, and finds the good in things. I wish I could be more like him.</p><p>“Hm,” Kageyama says, “I suppose, he’s pretty agreeable.”</p><p>“He is right? With you too Kageyama-kun—ah! Er, sorry! I mean…” she trails off, embarrassed. “He gets along really well with everyone.”</p><p>“Right,” Kageyama responds, if a little petulantly, wondering whether Hinata goes around kissing everyone.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>( heat )</b>
</p><p>They still argue a lot, between sets of a game, and on the train, before and after school—trading childish insults and heated glares.</p><p>In the fall of their third year, they get into an argument over an ankle sprain. It happens during their usual morning run, racing each other to 7 am practice. Kageyama, for all his control and dexterity, trips on a raised patch in the sidewalk, and all six foot two inches of him goes sprawling on the pavement. It’s a long fall.</p><p>Embarrassed—dammit he’s seventeen now, not a fumbling toddler—he picks himself up hastily, ignoring the sharp twinge in his ankle when he applies even the slightest pressure. He chases a sniggering Hinata all the way to school, gritting his teeth against the pain.</p><p>After practice, Hinata pulls him aside and presses him to take a seat on the bench. “Your ankle is swollen,” he remarks, pointing at the source of his irritation.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Kageyama huffs and Hinata says, “<em>No,</em> it’s not,” reaching out and sweeping his thumb across Kageyama’s lower lip, over deep-set indentations where his teeth have bruised and marked the skin over the course of practice.</p><p>“It’s <em> fine. </em>” Kageyama reiterates, “Just leave it.” He hates when Hinata fusses over him like this, uncertain what to make of all the attention.</p><p>“You stubborn idiot,” Hinata mutters, soothing at the crescents on his lip.</p><p>Hinata forces him to go to the nurse’s office and she gives him an ice pack and instructs him to elevate his leg for the next half hour. “No strenuous exercise for seven to ten days,” she warns. Then, with narrowed eyes, “I know you play for the volleyball team so pay heed to my recommendation, I’m advising Takeda-sensei to put you on bench rest for the week.”</p><p>Hinata listens intently, hanging on to her every word. When she leaves to tend to another student, he shoots Kageyama a pointed look, nearly smug, and mouths, “<em>See.</em>”</p><p>Kageyama avoids Hinata for the rest of the day but they have practice after class. The team is gearing up for the prefectural qualifiers again. It’s the third years’ last Spring tournament, looming in the year ahead. Kageyama doesn’t think they have very much time to lose, but Hinata’s making a <em> fucking point, </em>and if Nakamura-san hasn’t already communicated with Takeda-sensei about his injury, Hinata has.</p><p>Kageyama spends all of practice boring a hole into the back of Hinata’s head. When it’s time to go home, Hinata ignores his death stare and helps him to his feet. “Let’s go home,” he says, so sure of himself that it takes the fight right out of him, makes Kageyama feel like a dumb kid who can’t take care of himself.</p><p>“I know you don’t like asking for help,” Hinata tells him, on their way to Kageyama’s house. “But you know you can ask me, right? It’s just me…” he trails off and when Kageyama looks at him there’s a split second of vulnerability there, in Hinata’s expression, open and uncertain like he doesn’t believe it himself.</p><p>When they’re in the privacy of his bedroom, Kageyama initiates—one of the rare moments where he does—closing in on the narrow space between them on his bed. With a tentative hand, he coaxes Hinata’s chin up and presses a soft, attentive kiss to the corner of his lips.</p><p>“I wish—” Hinata starts to say, but Kageyama presses closer, lining their bodies up in a way that wasn’t learned, on pure instinct. Hinata bites back a groan, reacting in the way that Kageyama wants, rutting against him, searching for purchase.</p><p>“Damnit, Kageyama,” Hinata whines, whilst reaching for the zipper of Kageyama’s slacks and handling him gingerly. Kageyama is half hard, but a couple strokes brings him up to speed. It’s never taken him much—they’re healthy teenagers with healthy appetites, and Hinata always makes him feel like he’s burning up from the inside-out. Beside him, it seems like Hinata is radiating heat as well, eager and yearning. Mirroring Hinata, he lines up their cocks, smearing precome over their members to ease the friction.</p><p>“There’s something wrong with you,” Hinata accuses, “you’re emotionally constipated.” But the effect of his words are cut by a breathy sigh, a broken moan. Kageyama wonders what emotions have to do with anything, Hinata is gasping against him, bleary-eyed and incoherent. “W-wait, I’m—” he sobs, freezing and arching up into Kageyama’s grip, coming over his hand. Kageyama pumps his fist a couple more times before he’s following suit, muffling a groan into Hinata’s shoulder.</p><p>They’re still for a few moments, breathing the same air, sharing the same space; Kageyama feels warm and content, the frustration of this morning’s events is reduced to a dull ache. Hinata reaches over him, for the box of tissues on his dresser, and cleans them up enough so they can continue laying there, catching their breaths. He’s going to fall asleep.</p><p>“You’re the worst,” he hears Hinata mutter half-heartedly, letting Kageyama pull him in, tuck him beneath his chin. “I’m sorry,” Kageyama says, hardly meaning it.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>( sister )</b>
</p><p>Kageyama meets Natsu during the winter break, before their final term and the Spring tournament. They’re practicing in a school courtyard, where Hinata sometimes goes to play and train with the older Ukai’s elementary school kids. Hinata’s parents are at work and Natsu gets lonely, Hinata explains while scratching his head sheepishly and looking apologetic. Kageyama doesn’t know what Hinata is sorry for.</p><p>“Does she know how to play volleyball?” Kageyama asks, giving the ball in his hands a test spin.</p><p>“Shoyo nii-chan taught me some things!” Natsu exclaims from behind him, startling Kageyama into botching his serve.</p><p>Hinata chuckles and jogs off to retrieve the volleyball.</p><p>“Do—” he says, “do you want to try practicing some serves?” Natsu regards him curiously, rightfully assessing, and then she shows him an ear-splitting grin. “Will you teach me too, Tobio-nii?”</p><p>When they were younger, Kageyama used to play a lot with his sister. She was the first, the prodigy, but in high school she didn’t want to cut her hair, and well. Kageyama doesn’t claim to understand—there are a lot of things he doesn't, about people’s interests and motivations—but she looks happy these days and she still plays with him when she’s home.</p><p>He grunts an okay, beckoning Hinata over for the ball, starts simple.</p><p>When they drop Natsu back off at the Hinata residence, she makes Kageyama promise to swing by again next weekend, sticking her pinky finger up at him expectantly. He extends his hand tentatively, and quietly accepts.</p><p>“You’re good with kids,” Hinata tells him later, sounding playfully amused.</p><p>“What?” he gripes without the bite, “were you expecting something else?”</p><p>Hinata replies, “I just figured, since you’re the baby in your family….actually! Even among the third-years, you’re the youngest, you know?”</p><p>Kageyama rolls his eyes, grabbing at Hinata’s head. “Worry about yourself, dumbass.”</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>( love ) </b>
</p><p>They lose to Itachiyama in the semifinals and place third in the nation. True to Sugawara-san’s predictions, Kageyama wishes he could play more games with this—<em>his—</em>team. True to <em> Daichi’s </em> promise, the Karasuno alumni watched them play Nationals once more.</p><p>Hinata falls asleep on his shoulder on the ride back, looking content and peaceful. It is a satisfying end to their high school volleyball careers, sweeter knowing their time with the sport is far from over. It’s bittersweet, but he feels happy.</p><p>On the way home, the clattering of Hinata’s bike a familiar sound by now, Hinata says, “Kageyama,” the only forewarning he receives. “I love you. I-I’m in love with you.”</p><p>They’re still running on the high of semifinals, Kageyama thinks, too much adrenaline stocked up from playing center court.</p><p>“I don’t think you even know what that means,” Hinata continues, “do you?”</p><p>Kageyama can count the things he loves on one hand. He loves his mom and sister; he loves his late grandfather who taught him about volleyball; he loves being a setter.</p><p>He <em> likes </em> milk and curry buns, trips to Tokyo to practice with Nekoma; he likes the cold, particularly the period between autumn and winter; he likes Karasuno and he likes his teammates.</p><p>He has not thought about how he feels for Hinata.</p><p>“I-I…” Kageyama stutters, “Of course I understand Hinata-boke.” The fork up ahead is approaching, he halves his pace. “Fine,” he says, “That’s fine, I don’t mind.”</p><p>Hinata sighs, and it sounds defeated. “Kageyama,” he starts, and from the corner of his eyes, Kageyama can see the stiff line of his shoulders, the way he clenches his hands around the handles of his bike. “I think we want different things.”</p><p>When it’s time to part ways for home, Hinata leans up on the tips of his toes and kisses Kageyama good night, lips brushing softly against his, feather-light.</p><p>Hinata doesn’t kiss him again after that.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>( future )</b>
</p><p>In an initial meeting with the Schweiden Adlers, getting to know the other players, someone asks him where he sees himself a few years from now.</p><p>“Playing for Japan in the 2016 Olympics,” he answers honestly. To his left he hears Ushijima-san grunt, maybe in approval.</p><p>“It’s good to hear such earnest ambition,” Coach Suzaku remarks, “I’m looking forward to seeing you play.”</p><p>Truth be told, Kageyama hasn’t thought much about his future. He knows, like he knows grass is green and the earth is round, he will be playing volleyball.</p><p>On the shinkansen ride back to Sendai, he texts Hinata the same question. Hinata responds moments later.</p><p>
  
</p><p>For whatever reason, he breathes a sigh of relief—they were rivals first, after all.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>( distance )</b>
</p><p>Two days from graduation Hinata announces that he’s moving to Brazil.</p><p>It comes like a sucker punch to the gut, and Kageyama is rendered speechless. In his silence, Yamaguchi and Yachi share an uneasy look before offering their shaky congratulations, even Tsukishima has the decency to look put out.</p><p><em> Beach volleyball, </em> Hinata explains, perfectly reasonable; he’s thought about this. The thing is, Kageyama <em> knows </em> that Hinata has received a few offers. Since they took to nationals in their first year, and most recently placing third in the nation, scouts have had eyes on them. Kageyama has already accepted an offer to join a division one team; there was a stupid part of him that had just expected Hinata to follow.</p><p>They’re the demon duo—Karasuno’s genius setter, and the wicked fast middle blocker who makes up for height with speed. For the past three years, they’ve always been a team.</p><p>As Hinata details his two-year plan—which is really just a one-way ticket to Brazil and some local contacts that Coach Washijo has connected him with—the reality of graduation, moving, and his hard-earned friends parting ways comes crashing down on him like a tidal wave.</p><p>And more than that— “When are you leaving?” he asks bluntly, interrupting Hinata mid-sentence. There’s a niggling thought in the back of his head, <em> before it’s too late. </em></p><p>Hinata turns his gaze on him, soft and somber, and maybe a little sorry. “Not for a while,” he placates, “Later this year. Let’s play a lot of volleyball before then. I’ll be much harder to beat when I’m back, you know.”</p><p>Kageyama snorts at the comment, but agrees, trying not to think about the distance to Brazil.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Do you miss me too?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In his first month away from home, Kageyama is so homesick it feels like an actual ailment.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I tried to be as true to the manga timeline as possible, but I can’t promise there aren’t continuity errors :P </p>
<p>Enjoy~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>( Spring )</b>
</p>
<p>April and May are quiet months spent observing cherry blossoms and making frequent trips to Tokyo. The V.League men’s tournament begins in October, but the Adlers’ training schedule is year-round. During the week, Kageyama trains from Tuesday to Friday, crashing in the living room of his sister’s modest studio in the city. It’s a tight fit, but he’s rarely there, and it’s only temporary until he finds his own place. </p>
<p>They’ll start playing practice games in June, which, he’s been primed, will monopolize his Saturdays as well. But until then, the weekends are still his. It feels normal—he didn’t study much during the weekends when he was a student anyway, and now that he’s out of school, he has a lot of free time. </p>
<p>As promised, Hinata plays volleyball with Kageyama, fitting games in the evenings after his part-time job. Contrary to what people might think, Hinata does a lot of planning in preparation for his move to Brazil in the fall. October isn’t far away, Kageyama thinks. </p>
<p>The days are getting longer and it feels like they could go well into the night, playing by the moonlight. Sometimes, he’ll catch a glimpse of Hinata’s silhouette in the fading light, stretching the length of his court side. Hinata doesn’t seem so small these days, Kageyama observes; he’s physically grown, for one, seems more deliberate and reserved, for two. He’ll never be considered <em> tall </em> but he won’t be mistaken for a kid anymore. </p>
<p>They play Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoons, Monday mornings until Kageyama misses his scheduled train for the third time in a row. One of the weekends in May, Hinata plans a trip to the beach. The water is still too cold and they’re bundled up in their hoodies but he points out an event on the far end of the beach, some university students, maybe a little older than them, playing volleyball on the sand. Unsurprisingly, Hinata drags them over to suggest a 2v2. The wind is too strong, messing up their plays, and they lose miserably. But playing next to Hinata, it’s unequivocally fun. </p>
<p>They play until Spring comes to an abrupt end, stifled by an onslaught of humidity and summer rain. Hinata takes on a few more shifts and another part-time job, Kageyama finds an apartment on the outskirts of Tokyo, and it starts feeling like more than just a volleyball net between them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>( homesick )</b>
</p>
<p>In his first month away from home, Kageyama is so homesick it feels like an actual ailment. At Karasuno, he’d eventually developed a hardness to his seniors coming and going, but it's not enough to prepare him for the wretched ache in his gut when he's entirely alone in his tiny studio apartment. </p>
<p><em> You'll make new friends, </em> his sister assures, and, <em> I’m here if you ever feel like you want company. </em>He busies himself with furnishing his apartment—there’s not much to furnish, but it’s the difference between an austere, cold domain and a place he feels he can call home. Hinata sends him links to brightly colored sofas that might help offset the weird salmon-beige walls. </p>
<p>They text every few days, a shaky pattern that gradually takes hold. Kageyama describes his new teammates, Hinata shares stories of terrible customers. At the end of July, Kageyama invites him to Tokyo, and they toss dates back and forth until settling on the last week of August. It’s something to look forward to.</p>
<p>Between the Adlers' training schedule and away games, Kageyama’s free time dwindles quickly. Eventually, the loneliness dulls, replaced by the restlessness of getting to know his teammates and learning how he fits in, how to play with them. He develops an unspoken friendship with Ushijima, who is notably reserved, but honest in a way that Kageyama understands. In a city as dense as Tokyo, it feels comforting to know someone cut from the same cloth. They grab dinner together sometimes, after a particularly strenuous practice, trading techniques and constructive criticism. And Ushijima isn’t a drinker and Kageyama isn’t of age yet, but when the team is out for an event, they start staying out late too. </p>
<p>“How is Hinata Shoyo?” Ushijima asks over dinner one night. They’re trying out the newly opened restaurant from down the block, and Kageyama is mid-bite into his curry udon. </p>
<p>He sets his chopsticks down, chewing his food thoughtfully. The division one teams are highly competitive, and people are easily forgotten in favor of new contenders, stronger players. Kageyama hasn’t been asked about Hinata in a while—when there were still concerns that he might not play as well, that he couldn’t be his best without his most-trusted player. No one asks about that these days, he’s proven that he can adapt. </p>
<p>“Hinata is fine,” he finally answers, “he’s coming to visit at the end of August.”</p>
<p>“I had hoped to play him again,” Ushijima comments, and Kageyama can tell now when Ushijima is simply stating a truth, or expressing his interest; there’s a hint of inquisitiveness to his tone that reveals his curiosity.</p>
<p>“He’s moving to Brazil,” Kageyama says, and even Ushijima looks surprised, maybe disappointed. “Hinata isn’t playing volleyball?” he inquires.</p>
<p>Kageyama mostly gets it now, but it’s still hard to explain verbally—if only because he would’ve gone about it differently (<em>did </em>go about it differently) and there’s a stubborn part of him that refuses to acknowledge it entirely. “He’s going to play beach volleyball—work on improving his receives, and get better at defending the court.” After a beat, he adds, “It’ll only be for a couple years.”</p>
<p>“We have that to look forward to then,” Ushijima states, and it feels a little like encouragement. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>( Tokyo )</b>
</p>
<p>Hinata arrives in Tokyo on a Tuesday afternoon, large duffle in hand, and his old highschool messenger bag slung across his shoulders. Kageyama meets him at the Tohoku line and they take another train to his local station. Hinata’s hair is a little shorter than Kageyama remembers, but he’s mostly the same. </p>
<p>“Did you want to sightsee a little tonight?” Kageyama asks, on the ride back. </p>
<p>“Maybe,” Hinata muses, jostled forward by the afternoon rush and thrown inadvertently into Kageyama’s space. He reaches a hand out, steadying himself with Kageyama’s shoulder. “Mostly, I want to see how you’ve been fending for yourself,” he snickers. </p>
<p>Kageyama rolls his eyes but presses his hand against the small of Hinata’s back, anchoring him to the spot. “Takeout and ramen,” he replies begrudgingly. </p>
<p>A week seems like a long time for a vacation, especially after the daily practices and sports campaigning his manager has signed him up for. Suddenly Kageyama is doing sponsorships, and he gets it, it’s how he can continue playing volleyball for a living but it feels a little over the top.  </p>
<p>When they get home, he shows Hinata the space—it takes all of 5 minutes—and helps him store his stuff. It’s seven by now and he thinks they could probably head back towards the city except Hinata has plopped himself down on the couch, orange hair splayed against the teal backrest in a surprisingly pleasing contrast. “Cool, you went with my last reco,” Hinata gestures, sweeping over the sofa with his hand. And he’s looking at Kageyama with half-lidded eyes, smiling lazily. “Sightseeing can wait ‘til tomorrow?”</p>
<p>Kageyama grunts his agreement, retrieving his phone to peruse some delivery apps. “What do you want to eat?” he asks. </p>
<p>“Mm, karaage!~”</p>
<p>“Cool,” he says, taking a seat beside Hinata. Between ordering and delivery, they doze off, tuned into some evening variety show. Hinata’s slumped over and is possibly drooling on his shoulder, and Kageyama needs to stretch his legs at some point, but the AC is blasting on high—a couple degrees below comfortable—and it’s just enough to burrow beneath the throw, warm in the cold. </p>
<p>Sunday becomes Monday becomes Tuesday, and they make a habit out of saying <em> tomorrow, </em> between video games and the cooking channel, trying to learn something other than burnt eggs over rice; tossing a volleyball back and forth over the kitchen island until one of them nearly takes out a lighting fixture. <em> We can sightsee tomorrow. </em>There are seemingly too many things to do from the comfort of his living room, and Hinata feels too much like home.</p>
<p>They finally venture out to the city on Wednesday, loose itinerary in mind—Hinata’s been meaning to see Kenma and it doesn’t make sense for him to go alone. On Thursday they spend the morning window shopping and have dinner with Ushijima who suggests a couple parks and fish markets for the next day. By Saturday, they’re camped back in the living room, half-watching a televised marathon of Ghibli films. It feels natural, with Hinata by his side, sharing the same space again, breathing the same air, and he thinks—it’s on the tip of his tongue, like trying to recall a familiar word—<em> stay. </em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>( departure )</b>
</p>
<p>Hinata leaves on a Saturday. It’s the first day of the men’s division one tournament and the Adlers have a midday game. </p>
<p><em> I’m sorry I can’t see you off</em>, he texts, <em> have a safe flight</em>. Fingers hovering over his phone screen, he starts tapping out another text <em> Let me know when you la— </em>when his phone rings, startling him. </p>
<p>“Hinata?” he answers on the second ring, a little breathless. </p>
<p>“Sorry, am I catching you at a bad time? You guys play soon, right?” Hinata asks. Kageyama can hear the sounds of the airport, people bustling in the background. There’s a familiar tightness in his chest.</p>
<p>“Soon yeah, we have some time to ourselves before warmups, ” he answers. </p>
<p>“Oh good. I uh,” Hinata stutters, voice tiny and foreign over the connection, “I-I just wanted to chat a bit before I take off.” </p>
<p>“Yeah,” Kageyama says, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “I’m glad you called.”</p>
<p>They make idle conversation. Hinata asks him about the upcoming match which is a relief, skirting the topic at hand. Kageyama tells him about the quick he’s been practicing with Ushijima, the improvements they’ve made since last Sunday. It’s a fine balance between the sheer force that Ushijima is capable of, and the lighting speed with which Kageyama executes his tosses to catch the opponent off guard. </p>
<p>“When do you board?” Kageyama asks, and Hinata replies, “In a couple minutes, we’re just lining up our groups now…” </p>
<p>“I’ll…” he starts to say, hesitant.</p>
<p>“Listen,” Hinata cuts in at the same time, “I’m going to—” </p>
<p>“Miss you,” Kageyama finishes, wondering if the call picked it up over all the background noise between them—cheers in the stadium, planes on the runway. </p>
<p>“Yeah,” he hears Hinata say, it’s shaky but he can’t be sure it’s not just poor reception. “We’re boarding now,” Hinata murmurs, “but um, I’ll text you when I land. I’d wish you good luck but you’ll probably tell me you don’t need it.”</p>
<p>“Right,” he snuffs. “Take care of yourself.” </p>
<p>“You too. See you, Kageyama.”</p>
<p>“Ah yeah, see you.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>( holiday )</b>
</p>
<p>Kageyama goes home for the holidays, some respite before the games pick back up in February. He goes with his mom and sister to the temple to draw their omikuji, mostly an excuse to spend time with his family. His fortune reads <em>sue-kichi</em><em><sup>1</sup></em> and it’s not really meaningful at the moment but he pockets it anyway. They’re supposed to meet his sister’s boyfriend later that evening; he’s coming in from Osaka and she explains to Kageyama it’s how couples keep it fair these days—splitting the holidays between the in-laws. He wonders if she’s planning on settling down soon. </p>
<p>The following Friday he meets up with a few of the former upperclassmen from Karasuno, Daichi, Sugawara, Tanaka, and Shimuzu, who all haven’t gone too far from the nest. It feels like he’s the odd man out, for some reason.</p>
<p>Tanaka’s been playing up a big announcement all week long over their group text thread, but when he finally voices it over drinks, it’s quietly humble. </p>
<p>“Hah?? You’re getting married!?” Sugawara exclaims, wide-eyed and red-cheeked. He holds his alcohol surprisingly well but his face belies his tolerance. </p>
<p>Tanaka looks abashed, for once, grinning happily into his glass. Kiyoko is unfazed, as usual, but Kageyama thinks she’s blushing, her smile is terribly endearing and he wonders what sparked it for her, the day she realized she was in love with Tanaka. </p>
<p>“We’ve settled on a date in April of 2017,” Kiyoko says, passing around save-the-date cards, “Of course we’d love you all to attend.”</p>
<p>“Wow,” Daichi says, brimming with something like pride, “This is amazing, congrats you two.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Tanaka says, scratching sheepishly at the back of his head. “I never expected to be the first out of us. Daichi-san, I always thought you had something going on with Michimiya Yui.” </p>
<p>“Oh!” Daichi exclaims, exchanging a quick glance with Sugawara, looking a little red in the face too. “She’s a close friend,” he clarifies. “Anyway, now we know you won’t be marrying Suga, Shimizu-san.”</p>
<p>“Wellll, she did hold my hand first,” Sugawara teases, poking Daichi in the ribs and earning an eye roll from their former captain. Kageyama observes how Daichi swats half-heartedly at Sugawara’s hand, catching it in his—for a brief moment, it looks like they’re holding hands themselves but then Kageyama blinks and they’re just two friends annoying each other. </p>
<p>The food is brought out and everyone is laughing now, inquiring about the wedding plans and sharing stories of their other friends. Nishinoya’s been traveling for the last year, Asahi’s on a business trip, and they think Ennoshita is at a conference, but he’s been harder to track down these days.<br/><br/>“I saw Tsukishima and Yamaguchi the other day,” Sugawara says, “they couldn’t make it today but want to meet up tomorrow if anyone’s free, maybe get a game going. Kageyama-kun, what do you say? We’re no pros, but we can still kick some butt.” </p>
<p>“I’ll play,” Kageyama answers, a little defensively. He knows Suga’s just teasing, but it strikes a nerve—his manager’s been particularly selective with Kageyama’s sponsorships lately, and now there’s a whole public image to upkeep—he hasn’t played an unencumbered game of volleyball in a while. </p>
<p>“By the way,” Tanaka says, “How’s Hinata these days? Don’t you two chat regularly? We want to invite him too.” </p>
<p>“Ah, the time zone difference with Brazil is brutal, isn’t it?” Daichi asks, “there’s hardly a good time to catch him.”</p>
<p>True to Daichi’s comment, there’s a brief window of overlap, usually early mornings or later in the evening. Kageyama’s mostly a morning person these days, as a result of his training schedule, so seven or eight means catching Hinata just before dinner, which, Hinata’s explained on a few occasions, tends to favor nine or ten.</p>
<p>“Yeah we talk,” Kageyama answers, “He’s doing well...” And, if the Japan team makes it past preliminaries this year, then they should be playing at the Summer Olympics in Rio. “Eight or nine in the morning is usually a good time to contact him,” he supplies.</p>
<p>“That’s good to know, thanks Kageyama. We gotta give ‘im a good sell Kiyoko-san—I know coming back to Japan in his two years abroad wasn’t originally in the plan. But his senpai is getting married, I’m sure that’s a compelling reason!”</p>
<p>“He’ll come,” Kageyama intones, practically certain, and that sets off another round of cheers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>( girlfriend )</b>
</p>
<p>In May, he signs two more endorsements—one he’s genuinely excited for (Power Curry), another that’s generically sports-related, he can’t recall but is less enthused about—and has his first scandal. It’s not so much a scandal as it is a “point of interest,” which is what his manager deems it. The volleyball fanbase is a relatively tame one, but as with any professional sports, it’s not exempt from obsessive fans and online gossip, readily available for the interested.</p>
<p>Kageyama has never personally looked himself up, doesn’t even spend much time on his computer (these are things Hinata enjoys, perusing online forums and trolling the occasional jerk), but a teammate helpfully points out one day that there’s a rumor circulating online about Kageyama’s sexual preferences. In particular, there are a couple of sites dedicated to blogging about <em> the torrid affair between the Adlers’ setter and wing spiker. </em>There’s even an instagram account. </p>
<p>His manager proceeds to scroll through the (surprisingly) large collection of photos of him and Ushijima at promotional events, during their Wednesday dinners, and the occasional fanart. It’s convincing, Kageyama muses, but doesn’t voice it out loud.</p>
<p>“They say all publicity is good publicity,” his manager chimes, “but...” He eyes Kageyama with a frown, tapping thoughtfully at his chin. “You’re quite the looker—” something he’s been told on a few occasions but never understood, “—and I think we’d benefit from a celebrity partnership instead, maybe a model from our entertainment division?” </p>
<p>“What?” he asks, barely comprehending.</p>
<p>“The Olympics are coming up this summer, and we need to start developing your public persona; increase your appeal factor. People already know you play well with Ushijima, we have a hook on that market. That’s all speculation anyway. You’d be even more appealing if we find you a nice, wholesome girlfriend to round you out.” He mumbles the last bit secretly, against the back of his hand, “It shows you’re capable of feelings, which heh, has been another hot debate lately, so let’s make sure we clear that up and show people you’re a perfectly loving, caring person.” </p>
<p>This is how he ends up dating Suzuki Ao—an established model, small-time actress, variety show host. She’s three years his senior, but he’s told that’s a particular kind of preference, and it’s a good one. It’s purely for publicity, but she greets him with a kiss whenever they meet, reaches for his hand and laces their fingers together, and posts photos of them on her social media accounts. </p>
<p>On their second date, she takes him shopping and insists on buying him five new outfits, from head to toe. They’re varying shades of black, blue, gray, and the occasional red, which he likes, but he doesn’t understand the allure of v-necks and there are far too many layers—like why would you wear a plaid shirt over a white tee, it’s not a jacket. It's more work than he’s done for anyone, and it’s not even real. </p>
<p>A couple weeks later when Hinata asks him how training is going, he texts back<em>, Good, we’re increasing the number of practices. My manager made me get a girlfriend. </em></p>
<p>Hinata’s immediate reply is a series of laughing and/or sweating emojis, followed up by a few <em> hahahha</em>’s and, five minutes later, <em> you have more chemistry with a bowl of curry</em>. He takes it surprisingly well for someone who loved him at some point, Kageyama thinks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>( Rio )</b>
</p>
<p>Japan places first among Asia in the World Olympic Qualification Tournament, earning them a spot in the Rio Olympics. He knows he’s not supposed to gloat, but he does a little, ends up calling Hinata at 5am Brazil time, and they chatter into the morning, making plans. Hinata buys tickets for the opening ceremony and day one of the preliminary rounds. Japan makes it to the quarterfinals.</p>
<p>They lose to Italy, which goes on to take Silver. It’s an upsetting loss, but Japan is hosting the Summer Olympics in 2020<sup>2</sup> and he knows they’ll have a chance to play again. </p>
<p>In the days after the Olympics, Hinata takes him to Flamengo beach and shows him around. Kageyama has a couple days before he has to fly back to Japan so he books a hotel room nearby. By now Hinata’s picked up a decent chunk of the language, and he chit-chats casually with a few other beach-goers who must play volleyball with him on a regular basis. Hinata introduces Kageyama to them, pressing a solid hand between his shoulder blades and leaning into his space. It’s been awhile since they’ve been in the same country, let alone in this proximity and it makes Kageyama’s stomach flip with anticipation. </p>
<p>Hinata asks, “Do you want to play a game of 2v2?” and Kageyama can feel his fingers itch. </p>
<p>They end up playing a few games, and Kageyama is left a little awestruck by how much Hinata has improved since the game they played last May. Hinata leverages the space on the court, familiar with every corner and blind spot—he’s always been fast, but it’s quite amazing how quickly he can outmaneuver the weight of the sand, just before sinking in its softness. By comparison, Kageyama’s movements are clumsy, it’s a challenge balancing his hyperawareness of the ground against his usual technique.</p>
<p>By the end of it, they’re both collapsed on the floor, fighting back a fit of giggles, possibly delirious from the heat and exertion. “That was fun,” he hears Hinata say from beside him, and Kageyama keeps his eyes closed against the glare of the sun, digs his fingers into the sand where they catch a little beneath his nails. The guys they were playing earlier have already said their goodbyes and vacated the court, maybe there’s a new group of people waiting for the net to free up. Kageyama’s surroundings fade into a blur as he turns onto his side, placing a hand on Hinata’s chest, where he can feel it rise and fall in short succession. “Hinata,” he murmurs, feeling a surge of fondness, and presses his lips to Hinata’s bare shoulder, mouths, “I’ve missed you.” </p>
<p>Hinata turns then to face him—the look in his eyes is unreadable but there’s a frown on his face. It must not have been the right thing to say, Kageyama thinks, as Hinata sits back up, dislodging Kageyama’s contact. His face is shadowed by the brim of his hat, and he is uncharacteristically quiet. </p>
<p>“We should go, people are waiting for the net,” Hinata finally says. </p>
<p>On their way out, Kageyama notices Hinata keeps an arm’s length between them. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>( wedding )</b>
</p>
<p>Tanaka and Shimizu get married in the spring of 2017. At the wedding, Kageyama sees Hinata for the first time since Rio. </p>
<p>Hinata is all smiles, bright and vibrant like his hair. “Kageyama,” he greets at the reception, “it’s good to see you.”</p>
<p>“You too,” Kageyama says, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. He wants to ask <em>how have you been</em> and <em>when are you coming back?</em> <em>Why haven’t we talked?</em></p>
<p>“Wow! Doesn’t Kageyama-kun look good in a suit?” Sugawara exclaims, appearing from somewhere and squeezing himself in between them, draping an arm around each of their shoulders. “I envy your height.”</p>
<p>“You’re a fine height though Suga,” Daichi comments from behind. It seems like a genuine compliment.</p>
<p>It’s not long before the rest of the Karasuno alumni join them, congregating in a half circle, exchanging small talk and catching up on life. Hinata gets swept aside in a conversation with Nishinoya and Tanaka, who’s finally made it to their group in his round of greetings. </p>
<p>It’s a lively celebration and seeing the twin expressions of cheer on Tanaka and Shimizu’s faces feels particularly satisfying. There are toasts and dancing and cake, and more toasts. Kageyama possibly gets a little tipsy, warm and giddy from the excitement of the event. </p>
<p>When it’s time to go, he stumbles out into the cool evening air, a relief against his flushed cheeks. “Are you heading out?” he hears someone ask. There’s a shortage of taxis, and Kageyama’s nearly given up, content with waiting until the venue has cleared a little. </p>
<p>He turns to see Hinata watching him with a curious expression, head cocked to the side in blissful ignorance. He looks as if the last year and all that distance between them were nonexistent. After all this time, Kageyama thinks, he still looks like home.  </p>
<p>“I’m trying to,” he replies, gesturing at the empty road.</p>
<p>Hinata nods sympathetically and asks, “Your family home is still the same place, yeah?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Kageyama answers, peering at Hinata from the corner of his eye. </p>
<p>“If you’re okay with us sobering up a little first, I can drive us back,” Hinata offers, lifting his right hand to show, presumably, his car key. </p>
<p>“Alright,” Kageyama says slowly, but can’t help taking a step back. </p>
<p>It’s later, in the quiet of Hinata’s car, broken only by the sound of the road passing beneath them, that Kageyama brings himself to ask. “When’re you returning to Japan?” </p>
<p>Hinata glances at him, biting at his lower lip. “In the new year, then I’m going to try out for teams.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Kageyama says, “good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>(  rivals )</b>
</p>
<p>Hinata returns on a Thursday. He texts Kageyama on the runway while the plane is still taxiing to the arrival gate—this is how Kageyama learns he’s back. </p>
<p><em> Tryouts are in a week</em>, Hinata says, and, <em>like I said, this time I’ll beat you! </em>It’s the most enthusiasm Hinata has displayed towards him since the summer of 2016, but it feels like nothing has changed. </p>
<p><em> We’ll see on the court, </em>Kageyama texts back, grinning from ear to ear. The 2017-2018 season is still ongoing, and Kageyama knows it’ll be awhile before he gets to play Hinata in any sort of official means, but the thought alone is invigorating. </p>
<p>After all, they were rivals first.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1 Future blessing<br/>2 As we know the 2020 Summer Olympics didn’t happen, but I’m running with what would’ve been the expectation in 2016.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. We could be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hinata shows up at Kageyama’s apartment a week after his return to Japan—it’s been years since his last visit here, and these days Kageyama can afford far more than this tiny studio, but things are comfortable, and moving to a larger space means he’d have to re-furnish.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here it is, the final installment. Please enjoy and spread the love if you can! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>( friends )</b>
</p><p>Hinata shows up at Kageyama’s apartment a week after his return to Japan—it’s been years since his last visit here, and these days Kageyama can afford far more than this tiny studio, but things are comfortable, and moving to a larger space means he’d have to re-furnish. Kageyama has no idea Hinata was planning on visiting him so he gets home a quarter to eleven, having seen Ao to her door. She’d insisted on a late dinner, and Kageyama has never told her <em> no</em>, despite himself, so that was that. Nevermind that the Olympics were two years ago, somehow he’s still in this pretend relationship. It probably has something to do with the fact that he has the same manager; he really needs to do something about that. </p><p>When he steps out of his elevator, the first thing he notices is Hinata at the end of the hall, strolling more than pacing the floor. His figure is unmistakable, even beneath the bulk of his coat, not to mention that shocking orange hair. “Hinata,” he calls, voice cracking around the second syllable. </p><p>The other man spins around at his name, looking just as surprised as Kageyama feels. “Oh!” Hinata exclaims, “You came.” After a beat, he continues, “I assumed you’d moved, I was debating leaving just a few moments ago.”</p><p>“How long did you wait?” Kageyama asks, taking a few tentative steps forward. </p><p>Hinata shrugs, flushing a light pink. “Not long,” he replies but the way he averts his eyes, gaze downcast suggests otherwise. </p><p>“It’s cold here,” Kageyama says, finding his voice. “Come on.” He gestures at his door, making his way over to unlock it. Hinata hovers for a little before following him in, toeing off his shoes and arranging them neatly at the entrance. </p><p>Kageyama takes their coats and hangs them up in the closet, handing Hinata a beer from the fridge unprompted. They sit on opposite ends of the couch.</p><p>“I have a couple tryouts scheduled for next week,” Hinata informs him. Kageyama nods, sipping at his beer, swiping absentmindedly at the condensation with his thumb. “Did you want to practice?” he asks without thinking. He can feel Hinata’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t look back. </p><p>“Sure,” Hinata answers after a beat. They’re both aware of the last time they played volleyball together. It’s maybe that memory—of Hinata’s skin warm against his lips and the way he’d pulled away abruptly after—that drives Kageyama to ask, “Did I do something wrong?” </p><p>Hinata eyes him again, shifting in his seat. He can feel when Hinata leans back against the cushions, its motion transferring against and across the surface. “God, no Kageyama,” Hinata replies, “you’re fine.”</p><p>“Then what?” Kageyama asks, finally turning to face the other man. He notes the way the overhead light reflects in Hinata’s eyes, shading him with fluorescent white. Hinata has always held the spotlight. </p><p>“You’re so oblivious,” he hears Hinata tell him. “All this time, and you don’t have a clue.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Kageyama dares to ask, picks at the scab that took years to form. </p><p>“You <em> know </em> I’m in love with you,” Hinata says, sounding a little on edge, “Right?”</p><p>Hinata’s gaze is bright and heated. Kageyama didn't know he missed being looked at this way until now. After all this time, he didn’t think it’d be possible again. Instead, he says, “No.” Hinata raises an eyebrow and Kageyama shakes his head in frustration, trying to clear his thoughts. “No-yes, I <em> know. </em> ” he mutters, “But. Not <em> anymore</em>. You ended things, it’s been years, Hinata.” </p><p>“Just because we weren’t fucking anymore doesn't mean I stopped having feelings for you,” Hinata snaps.</p><p>“<em>You said, </em> we wanted different things,” Kageyama states, “But I still don’t understand why you, why you ended it at all.” </p><p>“Because I wanted more, Kageyama. I wanted to be more than friends, but you were perfectly content with the way things were. <em> Are. </em>”</p><p>“That’s not fair,” Kageyama spits, his own temper flaring. “You act like you know how I feel, how I think, that I couldn’t possibly understand what you were talking about. You gave up on me without even giving me a chance.” The look on Hinata’s face nearly stops him in his tracks, but Kageyama squeezes his eyes shut and pushes on. “I’m simple, but I’m not <em> stupid. </em> I know what I want—and maybe I can’t articulate it in the way you can, but that doesn’t invalidate my feelings, you asshole.”</p><p>It’s silent, when Kageyama finally opens an eye to peek over, Hinata is staring at him with wide eyes, lower lip trembling. “So what?” Hinata asks, “You have feelings for me?”</p><p>Kageyama frowns at the question. “I must,” he mutters, feeling crazy at the suggestion.</p><p>“You’re in a long term relationship with some model,” Hinata intones dryly, “and you think you have feelings for me.”</p><p>“I’m not, it’s not like that. We just—it was something my manager concocted for publicity, you <em>know </em>that. It’s not a relationship.”</p><p>“That’s just it, Kageyama. You went along with it anyway, the same way you went along with me. I told you I loved you and you told me it was <em> fine. </em> How was I supposed to know what you wanted? How am I supposed to know what you <em>want</em>?” His voice cracks on the question, and Kageyama reaches out on instinct. </p><p>“I wanted,” Kageyama says around the lump in his throat, “I wanted you to stay.” </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>( tomorrow )</b>
</p><p>“That wasn’t about you,” Hinata tells him, three months later at a gathering in Miyagi with some of their Karasuno friends. Yachi is starting a new job with a design firm, despite her mother’s connections, and she’d wanted to celebrate while everyone was in town. Kageyama hasn’t seen Yamaguchi and Tsukkishima since Tanaka and Shimizu’s wedding, and it’s a nice excuse to catch up on what everyone’s doing.</p><p>He’s a few drinks in, as is Hinata, judging by the soft flush of his cheeks, creeping down a tanned neck and disappearing into the collar of his shirt. Yachi’s new boyfriend is catching up to speed, getting to know them. It’s the first time she’s introduced him so they know it’s a big deal, that he’s meeting her friends. The question of the night is, “What has everyone been up to since graduation?” After a ritual, <em> how did everyone meet </em> and <em> what’s your best memory of Hitoka-chan?   </em></p><p>Yamaguchi and Tsukkishima’s answers are unsurprisingly entwined. Their friendship hasn’t suffered despite entering different universities. By their second year, they’d moved out of their respective homes to start renting an apartment together. The conversation shifts naturally into career paths—Kageyama’s stint in the Olympics, playing for a division one team and perhaps going abroad to play for Italy; Hinata’s foray into beach volleyball abroad, and his recent return from Brazil. </p><p>The boyfriend asks Hinata, “Why’d you leave?” in an innocent attempt to learn more, which he doesn’t know is a tired question, not the least a sore subject. It’s what breaks the silence on the matter. </p><p>“What wasn’t about me?” Kageyama asks later, kicking at the gravel on the street. They’d said their goodbyes to the others earlier, a familiar parting of ways that leaves the two of them ambling through town together. He can almost hear the click-whir of bicycle wheels on the road. </p><p>“My leaving had nothing to do with you, really.”</p><p>Kageyama shrugs, they’re on the main street now, where it’s easier to flag down a car. Hinata catches his hand in mid-air, pulling it down between them. They stare at each other for too long; the effects of the alcohol feel heavy on Kageyama’s lids. “I was always coming back,” Hinata tells him.</p><p>He doesn’t know who moves first, but Hinata’s lips are on his, a canine catching sharply on Kageyama’s lower lip. Hinata kisses with an air of desperation, pressing into Kageyama just like he used to, fitting in the negative space perfectly. </p><p>“We’re in public,” Kageyama murmurs half-heartedly, though they both know the town is mostly asleep, they’re just shadowed strangers on the street. Hinata pauses, leaning back to look up at him. His smile is crooked and fond. “Let’s take this somewhere more private, then.”</p><p>The ride to Hinata’s house is mostly quiet, the middle seat between them like a self-imposed barrier. Hinata is still holding his hand though, fingers laced in soft defiance. “I guess we’ve never been good at communicating,” Hinata says to him, when they’re a few minutes away. </p><p>Kageyama grunts his agreement, which is indicative all on its own. </p><p>Chuckling, Hinata squeezes his hand. “We’re here, come on.” He pays the driver and then they’re climbing the steps up Hinata’s porch. Kageyama follows closely behind, recalling the way to Hinata’s room and which surfaces to avoid, he'd snuck in enough times as a teenager to know. The residents of the house are asleep by now, but he doubts either of them could stomach a conversation. </p><p>In the privacy of Hinata’s room, he lets Hinata pull him towards the bed, stumbling clumsily over the edge. Hinata’s hand is warm on his hip, where it’s slipped beneath his shirt. He pulls it over his head and drops it on the carpet below, reaching for Hinata in kind.</p><p>“I don’t know why this took so long,” Hinata mutters, into the crook of Kageyama's neck, nipping playfully at the skin there. It wrenches a startled gasp from Kageyama, who arches into the touch. “I wanted to ask you,” Kageyama replies, lifting his hips so Hinata can help him with his jeans. </p><p>He’s grateful for the darkness, their figures illuminated only by moonlight. Hinata’s naked skin against his makes him blush—it’s a feeling he’s always liked, but would never dare to admit out loud. It feels feverish almost, grinding against Hinata, their members slick with pre-cum. </p><p>Hinata presses him down with a hand to his chest, and briefly fear rises up Kageyama’s throat. “What?” he croaks as Hinata maneuvers down, straddling his legs. He takes Kageyama in hand, bringing the tip of his cock into his mouth and twirling his tongue over the slit there. </p><p><em> “Fuck, </em>” Kageyama curses, bucking into the heat of Hinata’s mouth. Hinata licks a firm stripe up the underside of Kageyama’s member, taking him in deliberately slow. Kageyama throws an arm over his eyes, heaving a broken sob at the feeling of Hinata’s lips wrapped around his cock, the way he bobs rhythmically, applying suction at varying points. </p><p>“Hinata, <em> Hinata, </em>” he begs, gasping wetly into the air. Hinata doubles down, lifting only briefly to gather the spit-cum combination pooling at the base of Kageyama’s cock, reaching behind his balls to circle Kageyama's entrance with a slick finger. “Wait! I’m going to—!” He comes embarrassingly fast, Hinata suckling him through his orgasm until it’s too much, Kageyama quivering beneath him, spent and sensitive. </p><p>Nearly apologizing, he feels Hinata spread his legs further, watches with heavy lids. </p><p>“I don’t have a condom,” Hinata tells him, and Kageyama barely gets out, “It’s not like I’ve—have you ever…?”</p><p>Hinata shakes his head vehemently, as if offended by the question. “Just you,” he confirms with words, and the finger that presses into Kageyama feels punishing, a little more friction than slide. </p><p>It’s a satisfying burn, Hinata uses more of his spit to slick his fingers, pressing a second into Kageyama. “Ah!” he hears himself cry, but the sound is foreign to his ears, soft, earnest moans coaxed from his lips. </p><p>Hinata takes his time loosening him up, scissoring his fingers carefully before adding a third. He moves with a practiced grace, then he crooks his fingers and that has Kageyama arching into the touch, chasing the feeling. “Oh my god,” he groans, “there—”</p><p>They’d cut their teeth on each other, learned the other’s likes and dislikes, but this feeling is still breathtakingly new. When Hinata withdraws his fingers, Kageyama knows to open his eyes, gazing up at Hinata who seems nervous for the first time tonight. Hinata avoids eye contact but Kageyama sees how he bites at his lower lip. So he reaches up, pressing a hand to Hinata’s cheek. “I’m fine,” he says, short of saying, <em> do it.  </em></p><p>Hinata nods, still worrying at his lower lip, but he lines himself up against Kageyama’s entrance, pushing in, painstakingly slow. When he’s buried to the hilt, he checks in on Kageyama again, fussing at him like a mother hen. Kageyama rolls his eyes and grinds down so it pulls a hiss from Hinata. “Move,” he commands.</p><p>Hinata’s movements are fluid, the way he drives in, half rhythm-half instinct, is enough to bring Kageyama to hardness again. Each thrust grazes that spot inside him, unfailingly. Then, once Kageyama is sufficiently aroused, moving in time with Hinata’s unyielding pace, Hinata changes the angle and <em> there-there</em>-<em>there, </em>he thinks, pulling Hinata down for a bruising kiss. </p><p>He comes a second time with Hinata’s hand wrapped around his cock, pumping him in sync with their movements. Hinata follows suit shortly thereafter, pulling out just in time to spill on Kageyama’s stomach. </p><p>“I,” he tries to say, as Hinata cleans them up, “I, uh, thanks.” He finishes lamely. </p><p>He hears Hinata’s bark of laughter, feels him settle down beside him. “Better,” Hinata murmurs against his shoulder, voice clouded with sleep. </p><p>They wake sometime in the middle of the night to wash up. Kageyama can never sleep properly without brushing his teeth—Hinata knows this so he’s handing Kageyama floss and a new toothbrush before he can ask. In the shower, they rut against each other, lulled back towards sleep by the warmth of the spray and the afterglow of orgasm. </p><p>They maneuver the narrow space of Hinata’s old teenage bed, using it as an excuse to curl in on each other. Tomorrow he thinks they’ll have more to talk about, or, they should, talk, that is. In the moment Hinata is warm beside him, half tucked beneath the covers, their shared heat more than enough. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>( challenge )</b>
</p><p>The first game of the division one men’s tournament is in November. The season kicks off with the Adlers playing the MSBY Black Jackals. He and Hinata have played each other a dozen of times leading up to this match, but this is their first official game against each other since their game in middle school.</p><p>Hinata looks good across the net, all smiles and raw energy. They’re back at the Sendai city gymnasium, now Kamei Arena Sendai—their home game only because the Schweiden Adlers had bought out the arena. He hardly registers the cheering in the crowd as their team enters the court. There’s a deal of speculation from the commentators, about their high school careers and the monster generation, a nostalgic throwback to their past, if not a little indulgent. </p><p>It’s the most fun Kageyama has had in a while. Beyond playing Hinata again, there are other formidable players on the court and it’s absolutely thrilling. He watches Atsumu set for Hinata—it’s a high toss, an ordinary, unassuming toss that specializes in showcasing the spiker’s talent. Hinata spikes from above, a clear, powerful hit that resounds when the ball hits the floor.  </p><p>The Adlers lose 1-2, but they’ll get to play more games. Exhausted and a little sore from the day, he and Hinata head out for dinner with their senpai and old friends. Celebrating Hinata’s comeback is a satisfying replacement to winning. </p><p>After, it’s Hinata who he goes home with, showering and sprawling on his bed together, limbs tangled, hair still damp. The Jackals have another game in the morning, but in the afternoon, Kageyama has lined up a couple apartment viewings. </p><p>“Are you sure?” Hinata had asked around a mouthful of toothpaste, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom with practiced ease. “We’ll need a bigger place. I know you’re inexplicably attached to this place.”</p><p>Kageyama had shrugged, tracing his hand over a patch of well-worn fabric on his sofa. It’s a new, different challenge for them—beyond games and volleyball. Compared to their fumblings of youth, though, Kageyama is confident in their competence.</p><p>“I’m sure.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>( family )</b>
</p><p>In the following year, he brings Hinata home to his family (again, in more official capacity). Hinata has met his sister a handful times, and now she has a fiance so there are still introductions to make. They’re not a traditional family, per se, but he still tiptoes around the subject of him and Hinata. They’ve lived together for a year now but there are still times when he feels uneasy and on edge, protective of the hard-earned relationship they’ve built. This is something he and Hinata talk about sometimes—poring over where they went wrong, Kageyama’s complacency and Hinata’s insecurities. </p><p>Over dinner, his sister asks Hinata about Kageyama’s living habits and the conversation veers in a very domestic direction, Hinata recapping the growing list of recipes Kageyama can cook now, and the handful of times he'd nearly burnt their kitchen down. Hinata’s no better, he thinks, but Kageyama keeps his mouth shut. He wonders if Miwa knows. She’s unusually present, in the way she usually isn’t, peering at Hinata with a curious smile and exchanging quiet, secretive glances with her fiance. </p><p>Washing dishes after, she settles beside him at the sink, leaning against the counter with her hip. “Did you guys make up?” she asks. </p><p>“W-what?” he stutters, barely saving the mug that’d slipped through his hands. </p><p>Miwa is grinning knowingly at him, with one delicate, raised eyebrow. “You look happy, Tobio-chan,” she supplies, punching him lightly on the shoulder. </p><p>“Okay,” he says, but that only makes her smile harder. When she’s left, making her way back to the living room to ask Hinata more and more personal questions, Kageyama wonders if they were all that discreet to begin with. </p><p>At night, his mom brings out the spare futon, and Kageyama announces to no one in particular that he’ll take the floor. Miwa calls him a gentleman with a knowing smirk. In reality he’s mostly forgotten what it’s like to sleep alone, save the times he or Hinata are on the road for their respective teams. He pulls the covers back for Hinata who is still warm and a little damp from his shower, breath fresh with mint. Hinata crawls in without a word, moving mostly on autopilot, half-asleep. </p><p>“I think,” Hinata tells him, sliding a hand beneath Kageyama’s shirt, against the small of his back, “your sister knows.”</p><p>“Probably,” Kageyama responds a moment later, resting his chin atop Hinata’s head. “She said I look happy.”</p><p>Hinata sniffles, and Kageyama can feel the pressure of his hand on his back, pressing Kageyama closer. A few moments pass them by; Kageyama listens dutifully to the hum of the ceiling fan above. “<em>Are you </em> happy?” Hinata asks, quiet and a little subdued, but it doesn't hide the tone of uncertainty in his voice. Hinata is assertive in almost all things except this. </p><p>He pulls back enough to bring Hinata into view. Offering a smile, or what he thinks is a smile anyway, Kageyama leans in to place a soft kiss to the corner of Hinata’s mouth. “I’m happy,” he confirms.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>( partner )</b>
</p><p>They take the Tokyo Olympics together. In a fitting twist of events, they’re assigned to jerseys 9 and 10. His manager maybe has something to do with it, something about a compelling story and connecting with their audience. Undeniably, Hinata has always been his best partner, even with all the monster generation players Kageyama has been paired up with to date. Japan has a strong team this year, a lot of familiar faces and unique plays. They’re matched up against Argentina; <em> how fitting, </em>Kageyama thinks, when he spots Oikawa from across the court, a net and a near-decade between them.</p><p>“Hey hey hey!” he hears Bokuto exclaim. Beside him, Hinata extends his fist, looking determined and excited all at once. </p><p>After the summer, Kageyama is moving to Italy to start training with Ali Roma; likewise, Hinata will be making his return to Brazil to join Asas São Paulo. He knows this—it’ll be another two years. Italy is 5 hours ahead, but they’ve done this before. It’s Kageyama who says as much to Hinata, with an air of certainty and conviction that he’d have killed for all those years back.  </p><p>In the moment, he bristles with anticipation, teaming up with Hinata again is a rare occurrence these days. </p><p>Kageyama knocks his knuckles against Hinata’s outstretched fist, lingering for a second. "Let's do this."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You should see my search history lol: <i>what sounds do bicycle wheels make, what are fang teeth called, time difference between brazil and italy.</i> Writing is hard, guys.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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